


Like a Record Baby

by CGotAnAccount



Series: You Spin My Head Right Round [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, I guess this has chapters now!, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Pining, gay disaster shiro, spin instructor keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Thirty-seven.That's the number of individual sweat droplets that have wound their way around and down the spin instructor's neck, across his collarbone, and through the pecs Shiro could see beneath the gaping tank top he wore.





	1. Chapter 1

Thirty-seven.

That's the number of individual sweat droplets that have wound their way around and down the spin instructor's neck, across his collarbone, and through the pecs Shiro could see beneath the gaping tank top he wore.

That's thirty-seven times Shiro's brain temporarily short circuits and he wonders if somehow the electricity in his brain now exists solely in the barely hidden realm of abs where that sweat droplet went.

This is not how he expected this morning to go when Matt suggested he try a new cardio class.

Shiro has always been a weights kinda guy, his broad shoulders meant that he couldn't get too lean without turning into some strange combination of Frankenstein's monster and a zoot suit, so he keeps up with the bench and squat rack when he can. Cardio is just the nice warm up and cool down jog to and from the gym, and he's perfectly happy with this routine.

Until Matt.

Matt who - for the first time in his life - suggested something physically active last week with the most innocent look a Holt could muster, and Shiro is a fool. The optimism that Matt might not die with caffeine and cholesterol leaking from his pores at forty blinded him to his common sense.

Which brings him to here, in a spin class with some white haired goddess in spandex that Matt is turning purple trying to keep up with and her co-instructor, the man of Shiro's dreams.

Shiro had wondered faintly while listening to the shouted encouragement about peddling up the imaginary hill if he might actually have died already, that would explain the vision in front of him at least. Long legs on the pedals in legging so tight that he can see those quads flexing with each rotation, shoulders pulled into perfect posture that makes the flexing of his back apparent in the mirror behind him, and those pecs again...

He's even got pretty eyes when he tips his face up to stretch his neck, all sharp angles and pink lips wrapped around the mouth of a water bottle. Even the initially questionable topknot is growing on Shiro, now that some of the loose strands are framing his new favorite face.

Thirty-eight...

Cardiac arrest wouldn't actually be the worst way to go now that he's thinking about it. Not that thinking about it is helping with the jackrabbit staccato of his heart, or the attractive wheezy gasps from his face. Hopefully when he keels over off this stupid bike enough blood will have gone into bursting his heart that he won't die with a boner... unless Long, Lean, and Handsome tries mouth to mouth to resuscitate.

If he had even one ounce of grip in his sweaty, shaking hands Shiro might try to voice-to-text his will out onto his phone. Precious Black gets all of his earthly belongings and Pidge gets his darling fuzzball, even though it's her brother that caused this. He'll have to hope that he can beam that thought to her before he dies, cause he's not wasting his last moments trying to relay anything Holt related when he really hopes his last words will be an ode to the thighs in front of him...

And then Adonis lifts one hand off the handle bars to lift the hem of his shirt to his dripping face and _oh... that's a lot of abs._

As far as last sights go, Shiro thinks that's a pretty good one as he forgets to breathe for just long enough that his vision goes spotty and he slips sideways off the bike. And what a way to go, with those pretty eyes widening in front of him.

 

It can't have been more than 30 seconds, but Shiro comes to with those eyes hovering right above him and some long fingers cradling the back of his head. The instructor is haloed by the fluorescent gym lighting above them and the woozy part of Shiro's brain overrides his mouth.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?”

He can hear Matt groan aloud from somewhere to his left... definitely not in heaven then.

Pretty Eyes huffs a laugh and Shiro is certain this entire thing has been worth it to see the tinge of exertion on his cheeks darken into what might be a blush.

“Fortunately just a little tumble for you,” he says as he eases Shiro into a sitting position, “The first time is always a little intense.”

Matt makes a sound like a wounded animal and Shiro is pointedly ignoring him, this is his fault after all. If he had been warned that they were going to be motivated by thirst he would have had time to mentally prepare himself for mortification, and maybe wear compression shorts. Shiro's only consolation is that the blood that would most certainly be causing the world's most awkward boner has started trickling out of his nose, giving them an easy escape as well.

Before Shiro can make his smooth departure to dwell in his mortification with Black and a pint of ice cream, the hand on his chest disappears and grabs the cold towel around those nice shoulders to press under Shiro's nose. It smells like him.

And there is it. Compression shorts next time for sure.

Matt apparently has decided to remember the decade of friendship between them and finally makes himself useful, hauling up Shiro with only a lot of grunting and wheezing. Shiro vaguely hears his excuses but can't bring himself to look away from from that small smirk and those eyes flicking up and down that are just killing his dignity.

A tap on his shoulder stops their sheepish hobble to the door, and there is Matt's spandex goddess handing Shiro a business card.

“His name is Keith,” she grins as she tugs on the end of the towel under his nose, “He'll be working Tuesday when you want to bring this back and see him again.”

Maybe he won't have to poison Matt's coffee after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, someone asked for a chapter two soooo, here?

When Tuesday morning rolls around Shiro isn't sure whether his nerves are from excitement or he's going to puke up his coffee. The towel that is his ticket back to the studio has since been laundered thoroughly, despite Matt's claims that he's been using it for... other purposes. Not that it hadn't briefly crossed his mind - the second he pressed it to his face the smell gave him a full body twitch, but he'd like to think that he has a little more self control than that.

After Allura pressed the business card with her and Keith's information into his hand it had taken Shiro several blocks of dazed stumbling to drag his attention from it to Matt's smug face.

“So,” Matt began, with that insufferable smirk, “Didn't I tell you this would be fun?”

“Fun?” Shiro gaped at him incredulously, “I nearly had a stroke and made an ass of myself in front of the most attractive man I've ever seen in my life. That's not exactly my definition of fun!” He could feel his eye start to twitch as Matt's grin crept wider across his stupid face.

“That may be so, but now you have this!” continued Matt, tugging on the ends of the towel, completely undeterred by Shiro's glare.

“Yeah, that's really great.” Shiro grit out, “It's definitely going to help me when I creep back in there and...” and what? He hadn't even thought that far ahead, now that he had Keith's contact information and a time to catch him his initial wonder had cooled into utter mortification with just a hint of dread.

“Shiro, you're overthinking this,” Matt looked uncharacteristically earnest and Shiro supposes he must sound particularly pathetic since Matt plows on, “Look at you, you're a catch. Just go back in there with the clean towel, flash your pearly whites at him and play up the sheepish stud angle! He's probably flattered.”

“Or completely creeped out,” Shiro grumbled.

Matt flapped his hand dismissively, “I bet your not even the first person to nearly die of thirst in that class.” Which just made Shiro feel so much better... now he gets to be one among dozens of starry-eyed admirers hoping that Keith's pretty mouth might do more than pant in exertion in front of the class.

But now it's Tuesday and Matt has threatened to change the locks if Shiro doesn't go give back the towel and return with a report of some kind. Dragging his hand through his hair, he steels himself and pushes against the door to the studio.

And then nothing happens.

He pushes again, head cocked before realizing it's a pull door and yeah... this is going to go so well. He can feel his cheeks darkening and he presses his lips into a firm line as he tugs the door open and sees a lanky guy manning the reception desk, one fist knuckled firmly into his mouth to hide his obvious grin. Great.

“Uh.. hi.” Shiro starts eloquently, “I um, I was looking to return this towel that uh, Keith let me borrow and...”

The kid slapped the desk and said brightly, “Oh, it's you! One sec.” Shiro cringed as a slipped into the locker room next to the studio. So much for being low key. He squeaked the toe of his sneakers against the vinyl floor of the lobby and tried to remember Matt's pep-talk this morning.

“You're 200 lbs of pure muscle and sunshine,” he had said while throwing fake punches at Shiro's pecs, “You've got the smile of a puppy and half the brains of Pidge... that's a compliment!” Shiro had rolled his eyes and kept trying to brush his teeth.

But now he was repeating it in his head as a mantra when Keith himself walked in and his internal monologue turned into static.

Today's attempt on his life was Keith's excuse for shorts, bright red and stopping just above mid thigh, the lack of shirt was just unnecessary. He had a towel around his shoulders and the ends of his hair were dripping a trail down his clavicle, through his pecs and between the valley of his abs... down... down into that trail of dark hair and...

“Hey, Shiro right?” Shiro nearly broke his neck whipping his head up to meet Keith's eyes. He was pretty sure his face matched Keith's shorts.

“Er yes. Shiro. That's me, I'm Shiro.” he stuttered out, half as smart as Pidge indeed, “Uh, towel.” He managed to squeak out as he thrust the offending fabric at Keith.

“Oh, thanks man! You didn't really have to bring it back, we have plenty extras.” Keith's smile was blinding as he took the towel from Shiro and slung it over his shoulder, “How are you doing though? We were a little worried after that nasty fall.”

“Oh fine,” Shiro managed faintly, “Just you know... not much of an intense cardio guy.”

The receptionist choked on the water he'd been pretending to drink and Shiro immediately started babbling.

“Not like, no cardio! I can do cardio. I like jog, my stamina is okay and all I mean the class wasn't too hard or anything and it wasn't you I just -”

Keith's eyes went wide as he reached out and put an arm on his shoulder to steady him, the receptionist was attempting to stuff his whole fist in his mouth.

“Shiro it's okay,” Keith chuckled, “You look like you've got stamina to spare. Like I said before, the first time really can be a little intense for people.” And there it was, Shiro thought, the beginning of the aneurysm that was going to claim his life coming nonchalantly from those pretty lips.

“Anyway,” Keith continued, “If you wanted to try again we have some smaller classes that are less intense, you could come and even walk me through your usual cardio routine so we can make a plan that will be less taxing to start.”

Shiro doubted anything about him being in the same room as Keith with those workout clothes would be less taxing but he found himself nodding at that bright smile as Keith snagged a schedule off the desk and started circling the classes he teaches. Matt was never going to let him hear the end of this, and judging by the toothy smirk from the receptionist it was written all over his face.

Looking down at the schedule on his way down the street he notices the silly little smiley face Keith had doodled in the corner next to his name and it reminds him to buy heavier compression shorts for next time.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Keith held his smile in place until the door chimed shut and those broad shoulders walked themselves around the corner before he whirled around and slammed his palms on the desk.

“You fucker!” he screeched at Lance, who was sprawled across the desk laughing so hard he was wheezing, “What did you do with my fucking clothes?! I was practically waving my balls at him!”

“Oh my god his face,” croaked Lance through his cackles, “Holy shit I've never seen someone so red. This was so worth it.”

“Worth my foot up your ass?” growled Keith.

He was aware that Hot Meathead – Shiro his friend had called him – might be coming by to drop the towel off thanks to Allura's meddling. And he had told Shiro the truth, normally that towel would be considered a casualty of war once it's been covered in someone's fluids, but Allura rightly assumed Keith himself wouldn't mind being covered in those fluids. Maybe it's because when Keith saw that Grade A Beef walk into the studio last weekend he had clutched one hand to his chest and the other to Allura's shoulder asking if that ass was a mirage. He'll have to buy her next pair of leggings as a thank you.

Besides, Keith is only human after all, so if he wanted a little heads up to be freshly showered when Shiro came back in could anyone really blame him? He had planned it all out, the early morning spin class got his blood pumping, giving him that nice flush and a little muscle definition, then he would take a quick shower so he smelled great, then throw on his other clean set of workout clothes and talk Shiro into coming again.

Enter fucking Lance. He had slipped into the locker room with a “Your Dorito is here!” before snagging Keith's pile of clothes and tossing a pair of his own booty shorts at his face and running, leaving a dripping wet Keith with two options – shirtless booty shorts or tiny hand towel. Fuming, he had shimmied the shorts on, trying to tuck his balls up in hopes that they wouldn't fall out the fucking pant leg and threw the towel around his shoulders so he had something to grab, keeping his hands too busy to wring Lance's neck.

He had plastered on his most professional and definitely not nearly naked smile and stepped into the lobby to enact his plan to get a piece of that. What he didn't expect was Shiro to fall to absolute pieces, but in hindsight the guy did fall off his bike last time so maybe he's just feeling shy. Either way, now he's got three days a week to figure out the best way to convince him to let Keith trace out his muscle definition with his tongue... after he kills Lance.

“If you didn't bring in the cougars I'd convince Allura to replace you with a touchscreen,” he muttered at Lance's still giggling form. “I was trying to go for professional.”

“Oh you look like a professional all right,” snarked Lance, “A little more glitter and we'll have you and those shorts around a pole in no time.” Keith made a mental note to swap the soy milk in Lance's latte for cream tomorrow morning and record the noises outside the bathroom for blackmail.

* * *

 

Shiro's detour to the local mall for heavier compression shorts took long enough that Matt had started blowing up his phone whining for details. It really wasn't his fault though, now that he's going to be in that spin studio three times a week he really does need more workout clothes or he'll run out of laundry. It's just a coincidence if he happened to grab the 'package defining' variety, they seemed.... sturdy. By the time he finally nudged the front door open Matt was basically vibrating on the couch.

“So what happened?” he started in right away, “Did you get his number? Are you finally going to get laid and stop making me look bad at bars?”

“Nothing really happened,” Shiro muttered while trying to slyly edge the bags behind kitchen island, “I just thought it would be good exercise like you said, so I might be going there for a few classes every now and then.”

Matt's eyes narrowed. “A few classes like every few weeks or a few classes like those are bags full of clothes to impress your new boyfriend?”

Shiro sputtered, “It's only three a week, it's for my stamina! I'm sure it'll help with my lifts in the long run...” trailing off Shiro decided to quit while he was ahead and hurry the incriminating shorts away to his room.

Unfortunately, subtlety has never been Shiro's strong point. Matt snatched the bag from him as Shiro made some weird crablike effort to edge by him and immediately began howling in laughter.

“Really Shiro? Package enhancing?” he flapped the shorts around, “Does it contain the monster or just mold lovingly around it? Should I buy some false eyelashes too so you can glue them to the front and try to flutter them when your dick twitches?”

Shiro ripped the shorts out of Matt's hands, cheeks dark, muttering something about being the only ones in his size before he slinks into his room and slams the door. He flopped onto his bed and groaned, wondering if he's setting himself up for an embarrassing let down later before he remembers the trail of dark hair and decides with a flash of heat through his gut that it's definitely worth a shot.

Besides, if it means a chance at getting his hands and mouth on the work of art that is Keith he might entertain Matt's eyelash idea, but they need to have a talk about his kinks after this.

 


	4. Chapter 4

When the first class with Shiro rolled around Keith was fully prepared. He and Allura had spent an embarrassing amount of time going over clothing options before settling on some leggings with mesh panels that usually get the cougars going and he had one of the bikes in the front tagged with a little card with Shiro's name on it (and a smiley face). He planned to have today's class start relatively easy with some hill incorporated later on, just in case Shiro was the type to stand while pedaling on hills.

By the time the older ladies started filtering in and settling into their usual banter Keith was a ball of nervous energy.

“Good morning ladies,” he said, winking at them, “Today I've got a gift for all of us, so leave the bike in the front right open, you'll thank me later.”

Shiro walked in just a minute or two later in the tightest pair of compression shorts Keith had ever seen and his jaw nearly hit the floor. Keith waved him over to the bike in the front row while a few ladies in the back crossed themselves and gave Keith a thumbs up from behind Shiro's back.

“Good to have you, Shiro.” he managed around his suddenly parched tongue, “I've got you right up front today since it's your first time in this class. We'll take it nice and easy won't we ladies?” His regulars gave Shiro their best angelic faces when he turned to wave at them sheepishly, if only he knew they'd probably eat him alive – not that Keith would blame them, he's dying to get a bite himself.

* * *

 

The class itself went fine, Shiro kept up admirably for someone who looks like he was born in a squat rack and he only had a few close calls with his regulars leaning dangerously far over to get a look at Shiro when he started the uphill. He can't even blame them because his own thousand yard stare was laser focused on those buns of steel through the mirror on the back wall. Shiro's shirt had gone nearly transparent with sweat and was clinging to each ridge of muscle on his chest and back, they were lucky there weren't any casualties.

Of course as soon as they finished their cool down and did their usual round of high-fiving Shiro was immediately swarmed by cougars. They gave him their best saccharine smiles, patting his biceps and saying what great form he had for a newbie. Keith snorted to himself, great form indeed. He let it continue for a few minutes while Shiro gave Coleen, Lauren, and Ms. Sanda easy smiles while wiping down his bike before he swooped in to save him.

“Alright ladies, thanks for being so welcoming,” he said with smirk, “But Shiro and I have to go over a few things before the next class starts.” Ignoring their pouting, he placed a hand on Shiro's sweaty back - and yeah, that muscle memory is gonna be something to think about later, probably with a hand around his own muscle – and lead Shiro into the locker room where they could talk about his normal routine. Or as Keith liked to call it, Phase 2.

“Great job today Shiro,” he began while stripping off his own shirt, and stuffing it in the laundry bag in his locker, “How did you feel about the intensity level of this class?” A strangled sound met his ears and he turned around, trying to school his smirk into a professional smile.

“Oh, it was great.” Shiro managed faintly, looking somewhere about 2 inches above Keith's shoulder as he blindly peeled off his socks. “It was sweaty. I'm sweaty, you're sweaty. Sweaty is good.”

Keith had to bite back his grin. “Great! Sweaty is what we aim for.” he replied, “Would you be comfortable ramping up the intensity in the next class this week? Normally we ride a little harder.” He shimmied out of his leggings and stepped under the spray of the nearby communal shower heads to rinse off, looking back over his shoulder at Shiro innocently.

Shiro's gaze was darting floor to ceiling, to Keith's back, to his legs, to the ceiling again. Keith was pretty sure he was going to get dizzy pretty soon.

“Shiro?” he prompted again after a few beats of silence, “Do you need a minute to catch your breath? The steam in here can be a little much right away.” Then he bent over a little bit to rub out a spot in his calf - he was definitely going to hell.

“No!” Shiro nearly shouted, “I'm – steam is okay. It's just... hot? In here. This room is hot. I'm fine. Just... hot.” he trailed off lamely before peeling off those compression shorts and – Oh. Jesus Wept.

Keith suddenly had to agree that is was Hot In Here and it was his turn to blush and stare at the tile in front of him. He furiously scrubbed at his face under the water in an attempt to hide his suddenly flaming cheeks as he listened to Shiro turn on his own tap just a few feet behind him. Never in his life had Keith thought more frantically about Lance's abuela in a bikini as he twisted his tap to arctic temperatures, but desperate times call for desperate measures and he was Not going to get hard in the locker room before he had a full conversation with this guy.

Keith practically bolted back to the relative safety of his locker, teeth chattering as he clamped a towel firmly around his waist, before turning back to his view of Shiro's sculpted backside. He had to abort and regroup.

“Well it was great to see you today, good work and all, if you want to meet up for coffee sometime and talk about the rest of your cardio routine you have my cell on that card so uh... see you next time” he stuttered out while yanking on basketball shorts and scurrying out of the locker room. He managed to flee right past Lance and his raised eyebrow at the desk and into the office space they shared before collapsing into the chair and letting out a whoosh of breath. Ball officially in Shiro's court, Phase 2 complete...ish. Maybe his execution wasn't the best there at the end but he's pretty proud of himself for not whimpering.

* * *

 

Shiro is pretty sure he thinks that maybe he knows what just happened. Maybe. But the last five minutes feel like some sort of dream of his and he is afraid he's going to wake up in his own bed all sticky and have to deal with Matt's judgmental looks as he hobbles to the bathroom. But that was... an invitation for coffee, right? That's like a date. Like a purely professional going to talk about exercise date. He could work with that.

After a moment of turmoil that, No he cannot rub one out in these communal showers just because Keith's ass is fresh in his mind, he towels himself off and throws on the change of clothes he brought. Deciding that the rest of his day is now allowed to be dedicated to squealing into his pillow like a preteen girl, Shiro pulls up google on his phone to find the best coffee shops in the area for no reason in particular. The guy at the desk looks far too knowing as he walks by.

“Was your post-class meeting up to your standards, sir?” Lanky Reception Guy asks with maybe a little too much eyebrow movement.

Shiro flushes and coughs into his fist, “Yeah Keith was – _it_ was great. The meeting, you're all very professional uh-” he squints around trying to find a name tag for his tormentor.

“The name's Lance.” he offers helpfully, “I do the classes on Thursday and most evenings, but if you like mullets then stick to your current schedule” The smirk is only a little insufferable.

Shiro is pretty sure he's just going to be red for the rest of his life at this point, but he's also pretty sure there was a muffled thud from the back room behind Lance's slightly manic grin.

“Oh uh, this works better with my schedule but thanks for the offer, Lance?” he's pretty sure that's the socially acceptable answer as he edges toward the door, “I'm pretty busy today so I'm just gonna... go?” and he slips through with a cheerful chime before he incriminates himself further. He's got a lot of coffee shop investigating to do, so Matt better be free to be his judge of romantic but not too romantic but still passable as professional atmosphere.

Three rings later and he has to yank the phone away from his ear after an awful clatter.

“Did you do it?” Matt crunches into his ear, clearly eating something.

“Firstly, gross.” Shiro grumbles, “And secondly, I maybe might have the offer to call him to meet for coffee to talk about cardio routines and that's like kind of a maybe date thing so -”

“Say no more, you have terrible taste and I'm putting my coat on now”

Shiro has never been more glad for Matt's blunt friendship.

 


	5. Chapter 5

When Matt said he was on his way to save his disaster of a best friend he wasn't kidding. Shiro had the worst taste in just about everything that Matt had ever seen. Once on a road trip with an ex-boyfriend Shiro had decided a good date idea was a stop at the Museum of Funeral Customs in Illinois because it sounded 'entertaitional', needless to say they didn't last long after that. Every time Shiro is about to get somewhere with a cute guy he shoots himself in the foot whether purposefully or not, but Matt isn't letting him handle the gun this time. If he has to watch Shiro mope for one more second about being unlucky in love while being hotter than the average furnace Matt is going to lose his goddamn mind and fuck him himself – and nobody wants that.

Fortunately he has enlisted the big guns in operation Get Shiro Laid so it's not going to come to that. Pidge has been cross referencing reviews from different websites on all the coffee shops within a reasonable distance from the studio and has sent a color-coded list of the most promising spots to Matt's phone. Between two Holts and Shiro's abs Matt's sure this Keith guy doesn't stand a chance.

That is, until he actually sees Shiro on the park bench they'd agreed to meet at. The man has pink cheeks and the dopiest smile Matt's ever seen, just staring at the business card and smoothing his thumb back and forth across the edge. He doesn't even notice Matt's flat judgmental look after 30 seconds of deliberate arms-crossed toe tapping. This might be more delicate than anticipated.

“Shiro.” he says curtly, “Unless that paper is a scratch and sniff sample of that guy, you really gotta stop with the creepy stalker fondling.” Shiro jerked upright, sputtering.

“I was just-”

“Nope!” Matt cuts him off, “Not going there. Come on, Pidge has mapped us out the most efficient route to hit all of the spots around here” And I haven't had enough to drink to deal with this, he adds to himself silently.

Shiro hauls himself off the bench and carefully tucks the card inside his wallet before dutifully following Matt who has already begun trekking through the park.

“So you think this is a good idea then? I should call him... it's not too forward?” he actually sounds worried and for a second Matt almost softens.

“Of course, Shiro,” he says in what he hopes is a soothing tone, “He told you to call him didn't he?”

“Well yeah, but he could've meant-”

“Nope!” Matt's not going down this rabbit hole of second guessing. Shiro does this with everything from which color dress shirt to buy to what major he wanted to pick in their undergrad. “No. We're going to find the right place, then you're going to call him and invite him for your chat, then you're going to flex at him or whatever until you fall into bed and I never have to wait 40 minutes for you to finish showering again.”

Shiro's squawk draws stares, “That's not what I'm- hot water is good for muscle relaxation!”

“Mhm. Sure. All of your muscles I bet.” Matt snorts, “Anyway, this is the first one up here.”

Shiro's continued sputters are loud in the relatively quiet shop, but that doesn't mean much during off times like this. Matt scopes out the tables for privacy potential and wrinkles his nose when it becomes obvious that any conversation here will be for public consumption. There is also the matter of the artwork on the walls featuring anthropomorphic food in the middle of being consumed. The effect is a bit gruesome overall for what might be a first date.

“It's cute!” chimes in Shiro. “Look at the little teacups they have behind the counter!” Of course Shiro likes it, his concept of acceptable decor consists of the hellscape that is their shared apartment, half Ikea and half 70s shag that they are both too lazy to remove. He's pretty sure the mirrored ceiling has had the same smudges on it since it was first built and debauched.

“Yeah, no.” Matt tries to let him down gently, “You can't even fit your knees under these little tables, the art is a little serial killer-y, and those cups are for espresso. They'd eat you alive in here.”

Sighing, Shiro turns and pushes back into the street with slumped shoulders and Matt almost feels bad. Then he remembers the last four dates he had to hear about while Shiro shoveled a freakish amount of mac and cheese into his face and knows this is for the greater good.

The rest of the morning goes much like that, places that are too crowded, too hipster-y, too fast paced, or the one place where the barista stared at Shiro's arm for long enough that Matt nearly snarled in her face when Shiro wilted. Needless to say their spirits were a little low by the last stop.

Pidge had highlighted The Lion's Den on her list as a good candidate, if a little far away, and Matt was banking on her being right as he tried to cheer Shiro up.

“Hey man, I'm sure we just saved the best for last,” he said as they trudged closer to the entrance, “Look at this place, brick outside, cute old timey signage, chalkboard on the sidewalk... it's a classic!”

Shiro just shrugged and pulled the door open, gesturing for Matt to go ahead of him. The inside was warm and smelled like cinnamon, mostly dark wood with busts of colorful lions carved into the paneling. It certainly had charm at least. There were booths lined around the walls, perfect for quiet conversations, and a few tables scattered around the rest of the floor, some long with benches and others small and round. Matt was pretty sure this was it.

Shiro seemed to come alive a little more as they made their way to the counter and a guy wearing a nametag with 'Hunk' in loopy yellow writing gave them a grin.

“Hey welcome to The Lion's Den, news faces get a free sample” he said cheerfully without even a twitch at Shiro's arm or Matt's peacoat and pajamas combo. Matt liked this guy already.

“We'll have whatever you think is best” he replied, and Hunk lit up.

“Oh man perfect, I just made this batch of snickerdoodles but haven't had a chance to put them in the display yet and they're still warm and gooey and perfect and I'll be right back!” and then he basically vanished behind the swinging door. Matt and Shiro blinked at each other and shrugged, at least someone had enthusiasm today.

Hunk came back out just a minute later with a flourish and two cookies held in napkins. They gingerly took a nibble heeding the warnings that they might be hot, but Matt really could not have cared less about it once that magical flavor hit his tongue.

“Shiro,” he moaned into the cookie, “If you don't take him here for these cookies I'll take him myself just for the excuse.” Shiro just nodded frantically, mouth full of cookie and the fingers he was trying to lick clean. Hunk beamed at them over the counter.

“Planning a first date then?” he asked. Shiro shuffled his feet a little nervously.

“Well,” he hedged, “It might be a professional meeting to discuss further plans for-”

“Yes.” Matt steamrolled over him, “Probably yes. Is there a good time for that here?”

“Sure!” Hunk gestured to the booth near the window, “If you give us a little bit of a head's up we can make sure that booth is open, it's my favorite. It's not too romantic and it'll give you something too look out at if it gets all weird.” Matt looked over at Shiro and raised his eyebrows in question, Shiro tilted his head considering before nodding once decisively.

“Okay.” he exhaled, “I'll give him a call” he began to reach for his pocket before Matt launched himself bodily at him.

“You can't call him right now!” he said in an exasperated tone, “You were literally there like four hours ago. Unless you're planning on wearing eau de desperation to your date you have to wait at least 24 hours. Come on man!” Shiro shoved his phone back in his pocket with a grumble.

“Fine. But I'm going to call him tomorrow. It'll be awkward if I show up to the next class and haven't by then.”

“Deal.” Matt stuffed a $10 bill into the tip jar on the counter and waved to Hunk as they left. Hopefully this counts as his good deed for the day. “Now let's go back home so you can tell me all the dumb shit you managed to get into for this all to happen, I know you're not that smooth Shirogane.”

Judging from Shiro's sudden violent flush and muttered suggestion to pick up some beer Matt just knew this twist in Shiro's love life was going to be the beginning of the best entertainment he'd had in ages and he couldn't wait.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Lance practically kicked the door to the back office down the second Keith heard the front chime go off.

“Mullet what did you do to that hunk of man meat? I could have fried an egg on his face and that was definitely a semi he was rockin',” he shrieked, “Do I have to wipe down the benches?”

Keith groaned and thumped his head onto the desk. “I wish. I think I told him we can get coffee sometime, but used work as a cover. So...”

“So you're an idiot,” Lance cut in, “If all you did was invite him on a platonic man gathering why did you both run out of there like I might smell the sinful urges on you?”

Keith turned his face back into the table and mumbled something inaudible.

“I'm sorry, I don't speak desk,” Lance snarked, “Would you like to try that again?”

Sighing, Keith rolled his head back to face him, cheeks flaming. “I tried to sneakily entice him in the shower but he totally called my bluff and out sexy-d me and... Lance's it's like coke bottle.”

“Gah!” Lance flailed backwards from where he had been leaning in to hear better. “Things I did not need to know! I'm going to wipe everything down just to get your drool now.” he sputtered as he grabbed the disinfectant spray and backed out of the room with a scowl.

Keith sighed and dragged his hands down his face. He still had four more classes today and was going to need some alone time if he wanted to be able to sit comfortably on those bikes.

Not that he'd be able to sit comfortably anyway if he got his hands on Shiro, his intrusive thoughts added helpfully. He reached for the lotion on the desk, mentally apologized to Allura, and flipped the lock on the door with a sigh. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Once Matt had been appropriately filled in on the Shower Situation as Shiro had helpfully named it, they decided to come up with a plan of attack moving forward. If Keith actually was, as Shiro had sighed dreamily, carved from marble in all the best places, then he might be immune to the usual physical peacocking that could normally be counted on. Matt wasn't convinced that Keith was resistant to the gravitational pull of Shiro's impressive titties, but Shiro was so enamored with this guy's assets that he had convinced himself that he was reaching.

As if Shiro ever reached.

Either way, as a good friend it was his duty to draft up the battle plan for Operation Get Shiro Laid, so they sprawled themselves onto the kitchen island and began brainstorming on the way to getting sloshed.

“What if when we get there I have all my cardio routines plotted out and color coded so he knows I'm taking him seriously?” Shiro suggested, like a total nerd.

Matt snorted, “Are you confusing him with Pidge? Shiro, you can't go there with just professional stuff, you want to scream 'raw me', not 'raw data'.”

“Well then what should I bring?” Shiro definitely did not whine into his beer, “I can't show up totally empty handed or he'll think I'm just coming onto him, and I don't even know for sure that he's gay.”

“Shiro, the man was wearing mesh leggings and bending over in front of you in the shower. If his freshly waxed asshole is any indication I'd say he's probably gay.” Matt leaned back, crossing his arms and glaring across the island, “If I didn't know better I'd say you're about to cock block yourself for the millionth time in a row.”

“I don't mean to!” Shiro protested, “I just get nervous! What if I bring a bullet pointed list with my usual activities? So I don't look creepy...”

“Sure, Shiro,” Matt rolled his eyes, “One list. But you're going to feel him out when you get there, see if you can extend an offer to meet up again.” Or you know, fish for any indication that he's down to ride you into the sunset, Matt added mentally.

“What if I asked him for meal prep advice?”

“Only if you sneak in some phallic foods.”

Shiro groaned at Matt's grin, resigning himself to spending the rest of his night haggling with a pervert.

* * *

Keith may as well have been auditioning for a role as a squirrel. As soon as he had gotten home from work he'd thrown himself onto the couch, one foot bouncing restlessly against the coffee table while checking his phone no less than twice a minute.

Dragging his hand through his hair he huffed and shoved his phone under the throw pillows. He had nothing to be looking for, he reminded himself. It wasn't like Shiro was even going to call him in the same day, and he might not even call him at all. It had been a casual professional work offer after all. A meeting of the minds. These things take time... and he might not need the help, he certainly didn't look like he needed the help.

Keith snatched his phone out from under the cushions. No messages.

He groaned and slid it across the floor to keep from going crazy and Red, his fluffy girl, went skidding after it from down the hallway. He snorted at the loud thud and clattering before rolling onto his back and huffing at the ceiling.

If Shiro even did call, and if he wanted to meet up somewhere more causal like Keith had suggested he didn't even know what his next move would be. Phase 2 had been farther than he and Lance had thought that he'd get, so they didn't bother to plan Phase 3 yet. Not to mention that Lance was still maybe not talking to him after he found the tissues in the office wastebasket... He supposed that really all he'd need to do was string a few sentences together about hip-flexibility and stamina without offering to give Shiro a private demonstration of them both. Tomorrow he'd need to corner Lance with some apology candy and try to get some advice on what to say without using his godawful pickup lines.

On second thought maybe he'd corner Allura, none of her suggestions would include the words 'space pants'.

Either way, he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Best case scenario he gets to have a nice coffee with a hot guy to talk about an agreeable topic, and maybe they agree to meet to discuss things further. Worst case scenario Shiro doesn't call and Keith gets to keep ogling him in class until he's made enough deposits to the spank bank to retire early. It was really a win-win however he looked at it, and it was definitely not something he was going to spend any more time thinking about until it became relevant again.

He nearly smashed his face parkouring over the table when his phone rang.

* * *

 

For once in her life Pidge didn't mind listening to Lance bitch for the last half hour. In fact it had been a very enlightening experience, his rant about Keith's 'sullying the sanctity of the comfy chair' over some 'beefy winter soldier' had set the gears turning in her head. She shot off a quick update to Matt with a grin and flipped open her laptop, pulling up her shopping cart. A little meddling never hurt anyone after all...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you want to come scream at me or offer things you want to see I'm on tumblr :)


	7. Chapter 7

Keith was pretty sure he was going to puke all over his shoes. His phone call with Shiro the night before had lasted all of two minutes and he would've thought it was a fever dream if the call log wasn't staring him in the face. He's pretty sure Shiro had been tipsy, and judging from the giggling in the background somebody else had been too.

The man himself sounded a little sheepish, shushing whoever was in the background before clearing his throat and putting on what might have been a solemn tone without the occasional hiccup. Keith had felt his face bloom into a smile as Shiro asked if he was still “Interested in comparing notes about stamina-y activities over coffee... professionally” before the giggles in the background drowned him out. A solid thump and a yelp had followed. Keith had agreed with a laugh, the mental image of a tipsy Shiro too cute to be annoyed at, and asked where and when he planned to meet. Shiro had rattled off an address, getting the giggles himself in the meantime and mumbling some sort of goodbye before muffled whooping and a click had left Keith snickering.

Which brought him to here, shuffling around a few leaves with his shoe as he waits outside The Lion's Den. He's obnoxiously early but he was so paranoid about never having been there that he left more than twice the amount of time his phone suggested. Now all he had to do was kill a few minutes before he could wander inside and not look super pathetic sitting by himself for so long.

A knock on the window near his head made him whip around to see Shiro giving him a small wave from the booth on the inside. He's not sure if he's relieved to know he's not the only early person or anxious that maybe he's late and remembered the time wrong, either way at least he doesn't have to stare at his shoes awkwardly for another 15 minutes outside. He straightens his shoulders and does his best to stroll inside with an easy smile.

Shiro hops up from the booth and meets Keith halfway with his arm outstretched and Keith's not sure if it's a handshake or a hug. He goes for the handshake as Shiro tugs him in for the shoulder pat, but reads it too late to reciprocate in a manly way and ends up throwing his arm around for the hug. Nailed it.

Shiro chuckles into his hair, “Well it's nice to see you too.”

Keith lets go and rubs the back of his head “Yeah... I hope you weren't waiting long? I thought we were meeting a little later but...” he trails off.

“Oh! No, I was just early to talk to Hunk, the owner.” Shiro rushes to assure him, “You're not late. I didn't want to get the coffee without you, but his cookies are divine.”

“Well I guess we'll have to start there” Keith grins weakly, “Then ah, you wanted to talk about your cardio right? You mentioned stamina on the phone last night.”

Shiro flushes to his collar and starts toward the counter. “Ah yeah. About that, I'm really sorry, I had a few beers with Matt and didn't mean to call you until this morning, but I forgot and then found my own to-do list and.. yeah. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable at all.”

“Oh no you're fine!” Very fine. Keith had tuned out after hearing that he was on Shiro's 'to-do' list. He could work with that.

They made their way back to the booth after obtaining their coffee and cookies and Keith couldn't help but moan into the first bite. Shiro hadn't been kidding about Hunk's baking, it was soft and flaky and just the right amount of crumbly... he sucked the buttery coating from his fingers as he glanced up.

Shiro choked on coffee, dribbling it down his sweater.

“Aah... the uh. Coffee is hot?” he offered sheepishly to Keith's raised eyebrow as he patted at his chest with a napkin.

Keith could definitely work with this.

“So Shiro,” he began playfully, “What kind of cardio does a guy with your physique do? I can picture you jogging.” He eyeballed Shiro's pecs wistfully.

Shiro straightened a little at the gaze, “Well I do jog a little.” he rolled his shoulders back, flexing just a little bit and preening at the way Keith's eyes went wide, “But to tell you the truth Matt's sister took me to Zumba as a joke about a year ago and I ended up loving it” he confessed, and oh – that is something Keith definitely needs to see.

“You'll have to bring me sometime” Keith replied absently, still distracted by Shiro's... Shironess. “I love a good hip workout.”

Shiro flushed and coughed around his coffee again at the thought of Keith doing Zumba in those little shorts, “Still hot.” he muttered before leveling Keith with an earnest look, “Anyway, I want you to know I'm serious about this spinning thing. I feel like you have a lot to offer there.”

That snaps Keith out of his thirst hypnosis and into the reality where he is this man's instructor, even if he sure does have a lot he'd like to offer Shiro.

“Oh right, yeah. Really whatever you're comfortable with, like I said after the last class we can always go at your pace. You don't want to risk pulling muscles by going too hard too fast.”

Shiro smiles back at him and Keith is pretty sure this is going to be the least professional relationship he's ever had judging by his fluttering heart.

“I appreciate you looking out for my health, Keith.” Shiro reaches out to pat his hand across the table before getting a peculiar look on his face and taking a deep breath. “So uh, I wanted to ask you about meal planning.”

“Meal planning?” Keith cocks his head a little at the unexpected topic change, “I mean, Lance is more the expert there but I'll give it a shot.”

Shiro's mouth twists into something looking like a resigned grimace. “You know, like any foods that will help with spinning like uh...” he flounders a bit, “Cucumbers maybe? Or eggplants? Or uh... bratwurst?” Keith's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I mean, there's nothing wrong with eating water and fiber dense vegetables like that, and protein is always a plus. I think you'll be okay with those?”

Shiro's shoulders slump.

“Oh yeah, of course. I should have figured...” he looks up at Keith through his lashes, “And uh... what about bananas?” he adds almost shyly.

A smile creeps across Keith's face and his cheeks darken just a bit.

“Well,” Keith says slowly, “I think a banana every now and then would be a good idea. It keeps the cramps away after all...”

The corner of Shiro's mouth quirks up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith laughs, then looks at his watch and flinches, “Hey listen Shiro, I got to get back to the studio, but if you ah-” he pauses, fiddling with his sleeve, “If you want to do a test run of foods you can eat over dinner some time or anything I'd be happy to help.”

Shiro beams across the table at him. “I'd like that!” he scribbles his number on a napkin and slides it over to Keith. “Let me know when you're free” he adds with a wink.

Keith smiles back at him and pockets the napkin, walking backwards toward the door. “Sure, I'll text you later.” he bumps into the door frame, gives a tiny flushed wave over his shoulder, and disappears around the corner.

And if Shiro slumped into a boneless pile in the booth texting Matt with a squeal nobody but him and Hunk had to know.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Pidge's glasses glinted with the light from her laptop screen as she folded her hands solemnly in front of herself.

“I've called you here today to address the elephant in the room.”

Lance and Matt groaned and clinked their beers together in solidarity.

“More like rabbits than elephant.” Lance muttered into his bottle.

Matt nodded in agreement, “Or they would be if they would just stop tiptoeing around and fuck so we don't have to deal with this anymore.”

It had been about a week since the Coffee Meeting of Questionable Intent and all that had come from it was some flirting over text and a whole lot of pining that nobody wanted to listen to anymore with the exception of Hunk, who was a sucker for gossip.

Lance had called Pidge up specifically to complain about having to order more tissues and lotion for the back office and that was about three steps over the line she just made up.

“It's been like 3 boxes this week!” he threw his hands into the air, “He doesn't even bother to fake a sniffle!”

Matt rolled his eyes, “Shiro propositioned your friend using bratwurst metaphors. _Bratwurst._ ” he pinched the bridge of his nose and continued, “Who even actually eats bratwurst? If I say the word bratwurst to another man it means I want his bratwurst.”

Pidge shuddered, “Can we please stop saying bratwurst? It doesn't even sound like a word anymore.”

There was a beat of silence as they each studied their bottles before Lance piped up again.

“At least Keith tried to invite him out for dinner.” he grumbled in Matt's direction.

“Bratwurst!” Matt shrieked in reply.

Pidge rubbed her temples to stave off the oncoming headache.

“It doesn't matter which of our idiot friends is more of an idiot. What matters is that they trip and fall into each other's holes so I never have to hear about or think of this ever again.” she cracked her knuckles and carried on, “Besides. I had a set of fuzzy cuffs shipped to Keith and a cock-ring to Shiro from a 'secret admirer' so hopefully they'll get the idea. God knows they won't actually talk about it.”

“Pidge you're a genius.” Lance threw his arm around her shoulders as Matt let out what might have been a sob of gratitude.

“I know.” she replied, shrugging him off.

* * *

Keith walked into the studio with a tune on his lips and a bounce in his step. Today Shiro would be in his intermediate class which always got people to a nice rosy flush by the end of it. He slung his bag behind the desk and pushed into the back room only to be drawn up short by a pair of undulating eyebrows.

“Well look who it is,” Lance drawled to no one in particular, “The man with the world's runniest nose and silkiest hands judging by our supplies.”

Keith scowled at him and faked a cough snidely.

“Well, my thirsty friend, you'll be happy to know that you've got a present from an admirer.”

“What?” Keith's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Where?”

Lance pulled a vase of flowers out from under the desk and set it down with a rattle and clink. There were bright red fuzzy handcuffs clamped around the neck of the vase along with a card tucked into the flowers that had nothing written but a single winky face. His smug face and still wiggling eyebrows were enough to convince Keith to pinch himself.

“Are you fucking with me?” he deadpanned after not waking up, “This is you being cute isn't it?”

Lance threw his hands up in defense, “Swear to god, they were against the door when I got here.”

Keith's brain took several attempts to reboot.

“You don't think that Shiro...?” he trailed off.

“Keith.” Lance leveled him with a flat look, “Is there anyone else you've been trying to get to chain you up?”

“No!” Keith protested, “It's just seems a little forward is all... but they're beautiful flowers, and... uh.”

Lance snorted, “Yeah okay. You tell the man he should eat your – I'm sorry, _more_ – bananas, and you think he's being forward? If you don't make a move on him today I'll do it myself if he comes with gifts like this.”

Scowling, Keith snatched the flowers off the desk, removing the cuffs and tucking them into his bag. He had decided the flowers could sit on the front counter so Shiro could see them when he walked in.

This called for a change of plans...

* * *

Shiro woke up to obnoxious rapping on the front door to their apartment. Scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he dragged himself over to the door to see an annoyed postal worker snapping their gum at him and holding a giant bouquet. He must be hallucinating.

“I got a delivery for Shiragain'” she said, blowing another bubble.

“Uh.. I guess that's me?” Shiro's mind was struggling to boot as she thrust a pad and pen into his face.

“Great toots, sign here. Mazel tov.” He scribbled his name on the page in time to get a face full of the flowers which had been thrust at him hard enough to have him stumbling back inside. Shaking his head blearily he shut the door before putting the vase on the counter and padding down the hallway to Matt's room.

“Matt?” he asked with a knock, “Did you order flowers for something?”

“No. Come back with coffee or leave me alone,” came the grumbled reply.

Shiro shook his head and scratched at the trail of hair peeking out from his sweatpants as he wandered back into the kitchen. He set the coffee to brew and wandered back to the vase to take a closer look.

There were a dozen orange roses with a little card tucked into them bearing nothing but a single winky face and no sender.

As he was admiring the flowers, Matt shuffled down the hallway toward the coffee pot before stopping and doing a double take at the vase.

He let out a long whistle, “Are those from your boyfriend?” he asked, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“There's no sender.” Shiro replied, trying to tug one of the roses loose. They seemed to be stuck, cinched together somehow, so he tugged the whole bunch out of the vase and – Oh.

“That's a cock ring.” he said dumbly.

Matt sprayed his first sip of coffee all over Shiro's front and flailed for him to bring it closer. Shiro grimaced but held up the bundle for Matt to see, right there in the middle holding all the stems together was not a rubber band. It was very definitely a cock ring.

“Well,” Matt said slowly as he pointed at the little square on the side, “At least he sprang for one of the nice ones that vibrate?”

“He?” Shiro said, feigning ignorance.

Matt scowled at him. “Don't tell me you think this was anyone but Marble Cheeks.”

Shiro flushed. “Well... no. But it seems a little out of character for him.”

“Shiro. I love you but you literally took my suggestion about phallic food seriously. You propositioned the man with eggplants and bratwurst. He's probably sending you a cock ring to make sure you know that's the dick shaped object he wants you to use.”

Well he really couldn't argue with that logic.

“Okay, so... what do I do about today then? I have class with him in like two hours.”

Matt let out a thoughtful hum, “I'd say play it cool. Just, mention them but don't, you know? Aloof. See where things take you.”

“Okay. Aloof. Cool. I can do that.” Shiro nodded to himself. “I got this.”

Matt patted him on the shoulder as Shiro walked back to his room.

“You do. Go get him, Tiger.”

Shiro did not have this.

The second the door closed he whipped out his phone to send Pidge an unintelligible string of emojis. He'd never been so proud.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, so I think I had to up the rating.

Keith was ready when Shiro walked into his class that morning. After a huddle with Allura and Lance it had been determined that he was going to play it cool but still tease a little, they had their instructions to steer clear of the locker room after class, just in case. Part of this plan included the spandex booty shorts Allura had loaned him for the occasion and Lance's tank-top with the harness pattern strappy back. If Shiro wanted to send him handcuffs he'd do his very best to show that he was bad enough to need them.

Lance had suggested he change the playlist for the morning to include “S & M” by Rihanna and “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, but Allura had nixed the idea instantly, they did have other customers after all.

All in all he was proud of their collaborative efforts and made a mental note to bring in breakfast tomorrow – if he could do more than limp to work.

When the regulars began filtering in he placed himself strategically in front of the mirror where he could make a show of stretching out beforehand. He got a couple of knowing looks from his older ladies and one cheeky pat on the rear that he accepted with laugh before he spotted his quarry walking in.

He very nearly swallowed his tongue.

Shiro had switched it up today, opting for a pair of white mesh shorts that Keith could already tell were going to go sheer from sweat by the end. He could also tell plenty of other things through the thin material. He strolled up to Keith, who had just bent into a wide V to stretch his hamstrings, putting it at wonderful eye level.

Shiro cocked one hip out and Keith followed the swing with his eyes. “Do you mind if I ride without a shirt today?” he asked, “I noticed some of the ladies prefer to ride in just a sports bra and thought I'd give it a shot.”

Keith's heart started beating double time as he conjured all his mental fortitude and willed himself down – there was really no hiding it in these shorts.

“Of course, however you're most comfortable.” he tipped his neck up so he could look up at Shiro through his bangs and exhaled heavily into the stretch.

Shiro's hips jerked a fraction and Keith let his mouth fall open into a cocky grin. Small victories.

With a nod like a bobble head Shiro went over to his bike and peeled off his shirt revealing the broad expanse of his chest and rippling the muscles across his back. There was an audible sigh through the room and Keith decided his stretching was over - he needed to be concealed by the bike Now.

He cleared his throat and kicked on the music, ready to get the blood pumping elsewhere. He could tell it was going to be an intense class.

* * *

By the end of the class Shiro wasn't sure if his heart was pounding from the exertion of pushing himself harder than ever on the bike, or from the fact that he was minutes away from getting Keith alone in the locker room. He had gambled this morning on his attire. He knew the shorts were going to end up soaked through, but hopefully not in a 'I definitely have swamp ass' way and more of an enticing opacity. The jury was still out on that until he gets up, but the shirt had definitely been a gamble that paid off, he can see his own glistening reflection in the metal of the bike ahead of him.

The plan had almost crashed and burned right out of the gate though, he had walked in to Keith stretching and his shorts were molded so lovingly around him that Shiro was pretty sure he could have counted the hair follicles on Keith's sack in the mirror as he bent over. Not to mention the fact that just an incidental puff of air had him nearly thrusting right into Keith's face.

But he was pretty sure he had recovered from the rocky start. He'd made sure to keep his abs flexed the entire time, shoulders back, ass out, chin level. Judging by the fact that Keith's predatory stare never left his form, Shiro thinks he can count this as one point in the cool column, if not the aloof one.

He stays on his bike as the rest of the ladies in the class leave a little out of breath, some fanning themselves and mentioning how thirsty they were. He doesn't blame them, Keith pushed hard today.

Wiping his towel down his chest, Shiro slides off to adjust himself and disinfect the bike before he heads to the locker room.

He doesn't make it very far.

Keith is striding toward him as soon as the last of the ladies trail out with a flushed backwards glance, a man on a mission. He pulls up just a step from Shiro as he gives him a once over and shakes his head.

“Great job today, Shiro. Your form was excellent.” his eyes have strayed down to Shiro's shorts and he glances down at himself, suppressing a wince. They are maybe -just a tiny bit- past acceptable levels of sheer. Just a little. Just enough that somebody could probably size his jock strap at 10 paces. Oh well.

Keith doesn't seem to mind, licking his lips and looking back up to Shiro's face and raising one eyebrow.

“So, about those flowers...” he smirks.

Shiro huffs a nervous laugh. “Yeah, they were something weren't they?”

Keith's smile softens a touch, “I don't think they were a bad idea if you don't.”

“No?” Shiro's voice drops and he steps closer.

“Nah,” Keith breathes against his lips before slipping two fingers into the waistband of his shorts and yanking him into the locker room.

Shiro's heart leaps into his throat as he's pushed against the door, Keith's deft fingers flick the lock shut and he's pinned by the feral grin on that pretty mouth.

“I've been waiting to do this since you fell off that bike.” Keith says before crushing their lips together.

Shiro's pretty certain his heart is literally going to explode. His hands fumble on the slick material encasing Keith's hips and he groans as teeth nip his bottom lip and pull.

Keith pulls back looking far too smug. “Did I kiss it better?” he smirks before Shiro lets out a growl and spins them around, pinning Keith against the wall and pushing a thigh between his legs.

Keith lets out a throaty whimper at the pressure combined with the feeling of Shiro's big hands sliding under him and pulling him apart through the spandex. He can feel his fingers tracing the crease of his ass and is beyond thankful for Lance getting him into waxing. He lets out a high pitched whimper when those fingers graze his balls and Shiro's hands tighten enough to leave bruises as he smirks into Keith's neck.

“Not so cocky now are you?” he murmurs between the marks he's sucking onto Keith's collarbone.

Keith is pretty sure he's going to die if he doesn't get these ridiculous shorts off, like yesterday.

“Shiro, please,” he pants as he tugs on the edges of them, “These are crushing my dick flat. I need -”

“I got you.” Shiro hikes Keith up around his waist, pinning him spread his hips and tugging the shorts off from the back before shifting his legs enough to slide them onto one ankle. There's nothing underneath.

“Fuck.” Shiro breathes and his head thuds against the wall next to Keith.

Keith can feel the twitch against him through the mesh of Shiro's shorts and he want them gone right now. He uses the heel of the leg still wrapped around Shiro's waist to try to push it down from the back, earning himself a chuckle and slow rolling grind for his efforts. Keith can't help but let out a whimper as he throws his head back.

“Please,” he breathes again, “You've been such a tease this whole time.” He rolls his head back up and tugs Shiro's face to meet his eyes, “I want to feel as much as I can get.”

Shiro chokes on whatever sound was trying to escape his chest and lets go of Keith's ass with one hand to yank his own shorts to his knees, flailing them off his foot gracefully. He finally slides his bare length against Keith's own, slick with sweat and precum and it feels like heaven. He thinks distantly that it'd probably gross him out just how smooth the slide is if he had any blood left in his brain to care.

Keith lets out a stuttering cry as Shiro wraps one hand around them both and starts to tug. Being wrapped around him like this means that Keith can only do his best to roll his hips in time against Shiro and arch his back off the wall to get a little bit of leverage. He digs his short nails into Shiro's shoulders and bites at the crook of his neck to muffle the sounds echoing against the tile but the wet squelch and thudding of the door against its frame can't be helped.

Keith feels the heat building in him and lets out a stuttering cry as Shiro runs his thumb over the head of his cock, clenching his thighs around Shiro's hips and raking his nails downward.

“Shiro I'm gonna -” he whimpers.

“Do it. Let me see you.” Shiro threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of Keith's neck and tugs, and that's all it takes for Keith to spill between them with a shout.

Shiro continues to pull him through it as Keith goes boneless and slides his legs down, looking up at Shiro through his bangs and hitting his knees.

“Go ahead,” he pants, mouth open as he wraps his fingers around the meat of Shiro's thighs and squeezes. “You know you want to.” Then he's wrapping a hand around him and sliding Shiro into his scorching mouth.

It takes maybe two seconds for his brain to catch up before Shiro lets go with a groan, his own knees nearly buckling as he empties into Keith's mouth and has to slap his hands into the door to catch himself.

Soon there's only the sound of their harsh panting echoing around the locker room and Shiro is suddenly very aware of his splattered abdomen and the spandex shorts still clinging to Keith's ankle as he leans braced over him against the door.

He fails to fight down the snort that comes out of his face attractively before spinning himself around next to Keith and sliding down the wall giggling.

“Well.” Shiro grins and side-eyes Keith ,“That sure was an intense class today.”

Keith barks out a laugh, “Right? I feel like I've run a marathon, or gotten fucked within an inch of my life, or something.”

They sit there for another minute catching their breath with the cold tile biting into the meat of their thighs before Keith glances over at Shiro and knocks his knee with his own.

“Hey, next time we can try those cuffs you sent.”

“....Cuffs?” Shiro asks, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

Keith's brows furrow. “You know... the handcuffs? With the flowers? That... were...” he trails off at the increasingly confused look on Shiro's face. “Well fuck, This is embarrassing.” He drags his hands over his reddening face.

Shiro twists his torso around to put a hand on Keith's knee reassuringly before he remembers they're both naked and flushes bright red too.

“No! This was fine I just...” he takes a deep breath, “I just... I got flowers from you. With a uh...” he slaps a hand over his face groaning, eyes narrowed as he hisses out, “Matt.”

Keith is even more confused now. “You got flowers with a mat from me?”

“No,” Shiro groans, “I got flowers with a cock ring... and I thought they were from you. So...”

“So we're both gullible?” Keith smiles over at him. “I guess it really doesn't change anything, does it?”

He pauses and looks Shiro straight in the eye “If anything it makes me a little less worried about this.” he gestures between the two of them with a sheepish grin.

Shiro brightens considerably. “Then let's start this all over!” he reaches out a sticky hand for Keith to shake, “Hi, I'm Shiro and I think you're so pretty I fell off my bike. Will you go on a date-date with me where we can plot how to kill our friends?”

Keith melts and grabs Shiro's hand, “Hi Shiro, I'm Keith and I think you're a stud yourself. I'd love to discuss the best ways to commit murder over coffee, as a date-date.”

Shiro leans his forehead into Keith's and nudges his nose into his cheek with a smile. Keith tips his own chin up and meets him in a soft kiss.

 

Right before the pounding against the door jars them both forward.

“If you uglies are done fuckin' I've got some wet wipes and lysol spray outside the door!” comes Lance's muffled voice.

Yeah. Keith can totally get behind a life of murder with Shiro...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap!  
> Thank you everyone for being so nice! I've never really written anything before and this was the first multi chapter thing I've ever done. You're all wonderful and make me smile like an idiot at my phone in public and I love you!  
> I was also gonna do fancy watercolors of my favorite ridiculous comments and tack them to my walls to brighten up my days, so if you want a picture of yours when I'm done let me know!  
> You're all my favorite people!


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